Argumentative
by Curious Rebel
Summary: Cal and Ethan fight over something silly and Cal regrets it, big time. One - shot.


It's betting night at the pub. Basically we all get together and challenge eachother, whilst everyone else places bets. But we stop when things get out of hand, mainly thanks to the more responsible people in the pub, like Ethan - although it's not as if he's never excepted a challenge or placed a bet. I'm about to hand over the money for another bet, a bet which I probably shouldn't be placing, when there's a hand on top of mine.

"Caleb Knight. Place that bet and I _will_ break your hand. You know I can." The owner of the voice was none other than, my brother, Ethan Hardy. What he says is true, Ethan really could break my hand, if he wanted to. He's never broken MY hand, but he broke this really tough kid's hand when we were in high school. I don't doubt that he could do it again now. When he talks like that you _know_ you're in trouble.

"Ethan, you don't need to worry. I haven't placed that many bets." I reason. He raises his eyebrows.

"So ten bets isn't that many?" He says knowingly " especially when you've lost eight of those ten bets?" My blood boils,

"Why can't you just leave me alone?!" I shout. I know Ethan's only looking out for me but I can't help feeling angry. He throws his arms in the air,

"Well excuse me for trying to stop you from getting into massive debt!" Ethan bites back, his voice just a hiss. We glare at each other. The pub goes quiet. Our stare-outs are something that have become a very well known challenge themselves and people always place the highest bets for them. We've had so many of them - little did I know this is one I won't ever forget. We've been stood, stalk-still for at least twenty minutes now - yes, they really do last that long - and people are starting to chant our names. The entire pub just a whirlwind of 'Ethan' and 'Cal'.

Suddenly the door bangs open, and the chanting stops. Ethan and I swing round to look at the doorway. We were expecting to see a drunk man stood there, mumbling to himself. What we hadn't been expecting was a cloaked man, smiling creepily, and holding up a sharp knife.

Without warning he lunges forward, going straight for Ethan and suddenly everything's in slow-motion. I shout and lunge for Ethan too, ready to push him out of the way, but I'm too late. The blade sinks into Ethan's shoulder, he gasps painfully and there are some other gasps and a few screams, but they seem so distant.

Then everything's in normal speed again, the man picks a bottle up from the bar and smashes it over Ethan's head, knocking him unconscious. Max and Lofty grab the man's shoulders and pull him back, pushing him to the floor. He laughs manically as I catch Ethan. Gently lowering Ethan's still form to the floor. I try desperately to drown out the sound of the man's laughing. I push down on the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Ethan? Ethan, can you hear me?" I ask, loudly. I don't get a reply and I start to panic. There's a hand on my shoulder. I look up to find Rita looking at me.

"Cal, we need to get him over to the hospital." She says, her voice calm but firm. I give a little determined nod. I shrug my jacket off desperately to wrap it round the wound as a temporary bandage. I begin to wonder how we're going to get him over there. We can't ring an ambulance, it's too near. Then I get an idea, I push my arms under him and carefully pull myself to my feet. Ethan is surprisingly light, so he's easy to carry. The man is pulled well away from us and Lofty gets his phone out to ring the police.

Me, Rita and Robyn trek across the road to the hospital, Ethan lying motionless in my arms. My eyes search his face, the bottle didn't do any damage. I feel so guilty, why did I have to argue with him about the bet? He was only trying to stop me from getting into any financial trouble. He looks so innocent, almost as if he fell asleep off his own accord.

Twenty minutes later I find myself sat in the relatives room, waiting. Waiting and hoping. There's nothing I can do. Why did this have to happen? Why did that guy even stab Ethan? Why did he want to stab anyone at all?

After thinking for at least ten minutes I come to the conclusion that the man was mentally unstable. But before I can think about it anymore, Rita and Robyn come in. I stand up and look them expectantly. They smile,

"Come on Cal. He's awake." Rita says, her voice barely above a whisper. I follow them down the hall to a side room, all the while my heart is pumping in my chest. Robyn opens the door for me and I smile, giving her a small nod in thanks as I pass through. She closes the door behind me, I smile at Ethan, who is currently laid down, his shoulder probably too painful for him to sit up, and he smiles back. I sit down in the chair next to his bed and let out a shaky breath.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, my voice just a rasp.

"No. Cal it's not your, fault. I'm the idiot that got himself stabbed." Ethan jokes, but it doesn't make me laugh, in fact it makes me feel worse.

"But if I hadn't argued with you over that bet - "

"Don't be ridiculous Cal, it wouldn't have made a difference." Ethan says sternly and I know not to say any more about it.

I look up at him and he smiles and puts out his hand. I take it, smiling too. I look at him and think about how painful it would've been if I'd have lost him. My little brother. I stand up, letting go of his hand and wrapping my arms around him. I pull him close and he snuggles into my chest. We stay there, unmoving. Ten minutes later I find that Ethan is asleep, exhausted from the evening's events. I stay rocking him gently back and forth. A small comfort for both of us. I decide then that I'm never going to argue with him over something so silly ever again.


End file.
